Wasted Years
by sk8r-grl
Summary: AU- before the crash. Charlie and Claire are dating. Charlie gets Claire pregnant. When Claire makes a drastic decision, Charlie spirals into drug use. Based on YouTube video by ronniekins77
1. The Song

Charlie walked through the door, closing it behind him with a grunt. He hung up his jacket and set his guitar against the wall. He walked through the apartment flat, smelling spaghetti cooking. He smiled to himself as he sat on the edge of their bed and pulled off his shoes. He tossed them at the closet. "I quit! The band is going nowhere," he called through the house as he went into the master bath to wash his face and hands. "Oh, it'll be alright," a woman's voice drifted from the kitchen. Charlie chuckled under his breath, cutting off the faucet and drying his hands. He padded through the house in his socks. He sat at a barstool and leaned across the breakfast bar, smirk on his face.

"You don't understand, Claire," he stated, running a hand through his light brown locks.

"Charlie," Claire chides. They had been through this before.

"Liam's being a butt. A complete wanker." Charlie tosses his hands up. "He wants to change the lyrics to my song!"

"Well, maybe it's an improvement?" Claire asks, eyeing her beloved boyfriend.

Charlie shoots her a smirk. "It's the song I wrote for you." Charlie elaborates.

Claire whips around, stirring spood in hand. "What?!" she exclaims. "That song was perfect."

Charlie nods. "That's because you're perfect." Charlie tells her.

"Well, what does he think is wrong with it?" Claire asks, stirring the sauce, seething.

"He wants to change part of the second verse. You know, the one that's like," Charlie clears his throat and begins to sing, "I thought I was lost, but you found me just in time. My life was over until you came, I'll pay the cost. I'll sing your name."

"Yeah, what does he want to change?"

"He wants to change the whole bloddy thing! Says it needs to say "I thought I was lost without you, but you are mine and thiis is true."" Charlie says, rolling his blue eyes.

"What? That sounds bloody rediculous!" Claire nearly shouts as she pours the sauce over two plates of spaghetti.

"I know, love, I know," Charlie nods, rising to his feet. He pulls out forks for the table and says, "Whatever. I told him not to change it and he listened."

Claire growls under her breath as she sets the two plates on the table. Charlie laughs at her, he walks over to her, touching her elbow. He kisses her forehead. She shakes her head, sitting at the table. Charlie gets her a glass of tea and himself a glass of sweet tea. He sets the glasses on the table before taking a seat beside Claire. They bow their heads and Charlie prays over the food before they begin eating. Claire is silent for nearly twenty minutes, eating and drinking quietly. She sets her napkin back in her lap and lets out a breath.

"What?" Charlie asks, looking up from his meal.

"That's my song... He can't change it!" Claire grumbles, waving her fork at no one in particular.

Charlie laughs, taking a drink of his tea. "Calm down, Claire. We aren't changing it. And it's not like we're getting a record deal anytime soon."

"Well, it makes me mad." Claire sighs, carrying her empty plate and glass to the kitchen sink.

Charlie follows her with his empty plate and glass, too. He rinses his dishes off before placing them alongside Claire's in the washer. Claire tucks a strand of golden hair behind her ear and walks into the kitchen. Charlie closes the dishwasher and follows. Claire's eyes are on fire and Charlie raises an eyebrow at her. She marches towards the phone, snatching it off the hook. "What're you doing?" Charlie asks as she begins dialing numbers. She places the phone to her ear.

"I'm calling Liam; giving him a piece of my mind!" she exclaims.

"Hey, love, don't..." Charlie starts before reaching for the phone. She jerks back, walking into the living room. He races after her. "Gimme the phone, Claire," he calls.

"Augh! I got the answer machine." Claire states.

"Hang up." Charlie pleads.

"I'm going to leave a message." Claire protests.

Charlie lifts Claire in his arms. "No! I will leave a message!" she squeals her threat. He drops her on the couch. She lifts the phone over her head. Charlie grabs either of her wrists, pinning them above her head as he straddles her. "Hang up if you value your life," he mock threatens. "Never!" Claire giggles. Charlie leans down and kisses Claire's lips softly, but long enough to make her sigh. She releases the phone. Charlie arches an eyebrow as he looks at her. Claire stretches up and kisses Charlie. He leans down and caresses her neck. She looks up at him, asking, "Kiss me?" Charlie obliges, bringing his mouth to hers. He laughed, muttering, "You are my prisoner."

Claire giggles, eyes glimmering.

Moments later, clothes litter the floor.

Charlie wakes up early the next morning with a deep yawn. He looks over at Claire. She is gazing at him adoringly. "What?" he murmurs, rubbing his eyes. She kisses his nose. "Nothing," she whispers. He nods, sitting up. His hair sticks up every which way, crazy from sleep. Claire remains in bed, watching him shuffle around the room to gather his clothes for his morning shower. She falls asleep soon after his water starts running.

Charlie leaves a note for Claire. It reads: _"Didn't want to wake you. Had band practice at Li's. Love, Charlie." _Charlie pulls into Liam's driveway-- he was the only one in the band with an actual house. Charlie walks up the steps and enters the house, guitar case in-hand. He hears his friends' snickering from within the other room. He sets aside his guitar case, curiously approaching the kitchen. Bags of chips were opened and the friends were huddled around Liam. "Hey, guys," Charlie grins. Mark, the drummer, releases a guffaw upon seeing Charlie. Charlie scoffs, "What?" Liam hides something behind his back. Charlie is suspect. He looks from Mark to Liam to Greg (the lead guitarist).

"What's that?" Charlie asks, pointing at his brother.

"'S nothing. Just the phone." Liam states non-chalantly, pulling the phone out from behind his back.

Greg's face is red as he attempts to hold back his laughter. "Greg, what's so funny?" Charlie begs, feeling completely left-out.

Greg cannot answer as he snickers loudly.

"Just a funny message from some guy." Liam smiles wickedly. "You'll love it, baby brother. Press one and give it a listen."

Mark's goose laugh explodes and he has to cover his mouth with his hands.

"Alright..." Charlie mutters, pressing one and holding the phone to his ear. He hears himself saying, "Hang up if you value your life." "Never!" he hears Claire's giggle. He hears the phone hit the ground and his face pales when he hears Claire whisper, "Kiss me?" Charlie deletes the message and hears laughter and the scurry of feet as his friends and brother quickly race from the room. Charlie sets down the phone and races after them, yelling, "You are all bloody perverts!"

"Oh, kiss me, Charlie!" Liam mocks in a shrill, girly voice, offering his brother his wrists. Mark and Greg race from the room with laughter.

Charlie swings at his brother. The blow hits his brother in the shoulder.

"What was that for?!" Liam demands through laughter.

"You... You!" Charlie growls, jabbing a finger at Liam's chest. "You have completely embarrassed me!" Charlie attacks. "And you really have embarrassed Claire!"

"What? She doesn't know I showed the guys." Liam drones.

"She'll know when I tell her." Charlie states, eyes on fire.

"Charlie, don't tell her. Please?" Liam begs.

"I'm going to tell her! She'll be wondering why Greg and Mark are laughing every time they see her!" Charlie yells.

Liam winces. "Sorry, baby brother... You really like her, huh?"

"Yeah," Charlie softens, looking at his feet.

"Well, listen, I'll talk to the guys about it... And I'll apologize to Claire, but we won't let her know the guys heard. It'll be between the three of us. Okay?" Liam responds, placing a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Alright, Li," he grins. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

That night, Liam came over to dinner. He received a slap on the arm from Claire, but she wasn't too mad about the phone call. She was still simmering about Liam wanting to change her song. Charlie laughs as Claire fights Liam over the lyrics over their dinner of stir-fry. Charlie and Claire defended Charlie's original lyrics. Claire and Charlie finally pursuade Liam to keep the lyrics the same. After nearly two and a half hours, Liam heads home. Charlie rinses off all the dishes and clears off the table. Claire offers to help, but Charlie insists on doing the job. Claire nods and heads into the master bath to remove her makeup and take a bubble bath. Charlie finishes up and walks into the bathroom. He sits on the edge of the bathtub and leans over, meeting Claire's lips with a kiss. She was completely concealed by bubbles besides her head that stuck out from the bubbly waters. Claire's arm emerges from the soapy waters and she pats Charlie's knee.

"How much did he hear on the recording?" she asks, blushing slightly.

Charlie looks down at her. "Not much. Up until the part where you asked me to kiss you. It cuts off there." Charlie tells her, squeezing her hand in his.

"Good," Claire smiles, sighing with relief.

"I thought you didn't care?" Charlie asks. "You acted like you didn't with Liam?"

"Well, what's done is done. I mean, I was bloody mad he listened." Claire scowled. "But I was even angrier about the song."

Charlie released a burst of laughter. "I can't believe you care that much about my song!" he chuckles.

"Well, I love you. This song is extremely important to me." Claire explains.

"I love you, too." he murmurs.

Claire closes her eyes and slips beneath the white layer of bubbles. She continues to hold onto Charlie's hand. After a couple seconds, her head reemerges, hair wet and glistening. Her face dripped with water and her eyes flutter open. She smiles at Charlie. He bends over, cupping her chin in his hand and kisses her lips tenderly. She places her hands around Charlie's torso as she kisses him back. Suddenly, Claire pulls Charlie into the soapy water with her. He yells, startled as his body slips under water. The water in the tub sloshes violently around the two as their bodies shake with uncontrollable laughter.

"What... was that?" Charlie laughs loudly, wiping water off his face with a soaked hand.

Claire shook her head as she giggled. As the giggles subsided, Charlie stepped out of the tub, stripping off his soaked clothing. Wrapping himself in a towel, he heads into the bedroom to pull on a pair of pajama pants. Claire came out of the bathroom with her head damp, wearing a silk sleeping gown. She snuggled up to Charlie in the bed and rested her head on his chest. Charlie sighed contently, running his fingers through her hair. Claire wraps her arms around Charlie, pulling herself closer to his warm body. "Charlie?" she asks quietly.

"Hmm?" he hums, still stroking her golden hair.

"We'll be together forever, right?" she asks.

"Yeah, love. Why?" Charlie whispers in response.

"I just wanted to hear it from you." Claire murmurs, burrowing her head into his chest.

"M'kay," Charlie says, kissing her atop the head. "Love you."

"Love you, too,"


	2. Sickness

It was a month later. Charlie is packing up his guitar and looks over his shoulder. "You coming?" Charlie asks. Claire's voice comes from the bedroom as she replies, "I'm coming." Claire comes out of the room, hopping as she slips her shoes on. Charlie laughs, standing and grabbing his guitar case. He holds hands with Claire and they walk out of the apartment flat and to his car. Charlie drives through town, tapping the wheel excitedly. Claire smiles at him, patting his shoulder encouragingly. Charlie casts her a nervous smile before pulling into a small club's parking lot. He clambers out, grabbing his guitar case. Claire joins him and heads to the back entrance with him. He flashes the security a badge of identification before they were allowed to enter. Claire watches him set up his guitar and amplifyer with Liam and the band. Charlie grins back at her. This wasn't the band's first gig, but it was their most important thus far.

Claire walks up to Charlie, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to be watching over here," she tells him, pointing to the backstage area to the right.

"M'kay," he hums, kissing her lips lightly.

Claire scurries off stage and watches the band chit-chat anxiously. The spotlight suddenly shone on them and they all looked at each other with smiles. Liam pressed his lips to the mic, yelling, "Hello, Sydney!" A round of excited cheers and claps follow his greeting. After the clapping becomes less loud, Charlie and his bandmates begin their first song. The music is loud and intense. The fans don't know any of the songs at first, but by the time DriveSHAFT gets to the second chorus of each song, the crowd is singing along. Charlie and Liam are jumping around stage, giddy with excitement. Charlie and Liam sing into the microphones and Claire cheers from the sidelines. Then, after the fifth song, Charlie walks to the side of the stage and grabs an acoustic guitar and a barstool. He pulls it up to the main mic and Liam falls into the backup spot Charlie had once occupied. Charlie pulls the guitar's strap over his shoulder and sits on the barstool. He smiles nervously, leaning forward to speak into the mic.

"This song is called 'Claire.' I wrote it for the most amazing girl I know." Charlie tells the crowd.

A chorus of "aawwws" follow his introduction. Charlie blushes, glancing over at Claire briefly before strumming out the song. Liam backs up his brother and they maintain perfect harmony as the audience sways to the love song. Charlie plucks the guitar strings, putting his lips to the mic and swooning to the audience. He casts Claire a few sideways glances throughout the performance, smiling a little more each time he did so. Claire sings along, swaying like many of the audience members. She feels tears well up in her eyes and cheers along with everyone as the final chords are plucked and the final note has been sung.

DriveSHAFT played one more song before their gig was over. They left the stage with waves, looking like rock stars. Claire wraps her arms around Charlie in a hug as he exits the stage. He hugs her back and squeezes her tightly. "I'm gonna get everything loaded up, then, we'll go home. Okay?" he asks her.

"Okay," Claire smiles, kissing his cheek.

The drive home, Claire falls asleep, leaning against the window. Charlie parks the car before grabbing his guitar case from the backseat. He walks over to Claire's door and gently opens it. This startles Claire from her sleep. Her eyes blink open slowly. "Hmm?" she asks, yawning widely. Charlie laughs, telling her that they were home now. Claire nods and sleepily fumbles to unbuckle. Charlie supports her as she groggily walks with him to their flat. Charlie lays her in their bed before putting away his guitar. He takes a quick shower before slipping into bed himself. Claire takes her shower next and once she is done and in her nightgown, she flops onto the bed and instantly falls asleep.

Charlie falls asleep soon after. His dreams transport him to another place and time. He looks around, seeing that he is riding in the back of a school bus. He furrows his brow, looking at all the seats filled with still, silent children. Charlie waves his hand at one sandy-haired boy. He looks at Charlie with empty eyes and a blank expression. Charlie jumps, startled by the child's reaction. Or lack of reaction. Charlie walks shakily to the front of the bus as it swerves and sharply turns down crooked roadways. The busdriver was an man in his forties. His bald head was covered by a brown baseball cap displaying an image of a sunny beach with swaying palm trees. The man turned and looked at Charlie with glassy eyes. Charlie startles, tripping backwards out of the bus. The driver looks at him with a blank face. Then, his lips part.

"You didn't save him." the driver says before closing the bus doors.

Charlie stands and looks as the bus as it sits idle on the side of the road. The children are staring blankly out the window; their eyes are glazed over like the driver's. Their eyes seem dead. Then, Charlie spots the sandy-haired boy. Charlie looks at him as the bus slowly pulls away. The boy's jaw drops open and his head swivels from side to side as a horrifying scream echoes from his chapped lips.

Charlie shoots up in bed in a cold sweat. His heart is racing. He puts a hand to his head, brushing the hair from his damp forehead. He looks over at Claire who is still asleep before laying back down. He releases a breath and a shudder before curling up and-- with difficulty-- falls back asleep.

Claire wakes up at six a.m. Her stomach is rolling and she feels vomit rising quickly in her throat. She races to the bathroom, clumsy from grogginess. She leans over the toilet annd begins puking her guts out. Charlie's shuffling footsteps are heard as she breathes heavily, coughing. "Oh, bloody..." she hears him mutter before she grips her stomach again. Charlie hurries over and sweeps her hair up in his hands, attempting to help her in any way. Once Claire feels her puking is over, she leans back. Charlie helps her stand. She heads over to the sink and thoroughly brushes her teeth, ridding herself of the sick.

When she finishes, Charlie asks, "What happened?"

"I dunno... I just woke up." Claire mutters hoarsley.

"Oh... Well, maybe it was that fast food place we ate at before the show? That Gomez place, yeah?" Charlie guesses, shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess that's it..." Claire agrees.

"We're never eating there again." Charlie vows, looking intense.

"Why aren'y you sick?"

"I don't really get sick easy, I guess. Iron stomach." Charlie jokes, pointing to his stomach.

Claire weakly laughs, heading into the bedroom to get dressed.

One week later, Claire is still sick. She hears Charlie knock on the bathroom door weakly. "Is it normal for food poisoning to last this long?" his voice is muffled from the door between them.

"I don't know," Claire moans, standing and brushing her teeth.

She opens the door to see Charlie standing there, brows knitted with worry. She hugs him tightly. "Hey, don't worry. I'll be fine." she soothes.

"Really?" he asks.

"Yeah... I'm, uh, going to the store to get some stuff. Okay?" she asks, grabbing the keys to their car.

"Oh, alright... Remember to pick up some milk?"

"Alright, love you." Claire calls as she slips on a pair of shoes that match her outfit.

"Love you, too." Charlie responds.

Claire drives to the nearest conveneince store. She gets a small, hand-held basket before going to the dairy immediately. She sets a gallon of milk into her basket. Then, she headed to a specific isle. She grabs a small, purple box, dropping it into her basket nonchalantly. She checks out before clambering into the car. In the seat next to her was a bag. In that bag was a carton of milk... and a pregnancy test.


	3. Kicking & Screaming

Claire sets the carton of milk into the fridge before walking into the living room where Charlie sat. He was plucking his guitar absent-mindedly. She held the purple box in her hands anxiously turning it over in her hands. Claire clears her throat and Charlie looks up. He smiles up at her from the couch before looking at the item in her hands.

"What's that?" he asks, setting his guitar aside. He knew something was up.

Claire sighs, taking a step forward. She purses her lips, examining the box. "It's a... a pregnancy test." she answers, looking at him briefly.

Charlie's face pales. "What?" he breathes.

Claire nods, tears welling up in her eyes. "I think I'm... you know." she cannot bring herself to say it.

Charlie stands. "Have you... used it yet?" he awkwardly questions, gesturing towards the box.

She shakes her head. "I wanted to tell you first." she states, trying to keep her voice from breaking.

Charlie envelopes Claire in his arms. He kisses her hair before resting his cheek on the top of her head. "I love you, Claire. I'll be here for you, whatever happens." he consoles her. He extends his arms so that Claire is standing before him. He looks into her eyes, solemnly stating, "I promise."

Claire sucks up her tears and nods; she does not speak for she fears she might start crying. Charlie squeezes Claire's hands in his. She smiles at him before heading into the bathroom. Charlie watches her close the door slowly. He runs his hand through his hair as he releases a nervous breath. His hands fall to his sides, leaving his hair in a mess. He paces around the room for a minute before lifting his hand to knock on the door. "Are you done?" he calls through the door. The door opens instantly. Claire has the test in her hands, and she breezes past Charlie to the bed. He follows her anxiously.

"Are we pregnant?" he asks, biting his lip.

"I don't know! It takes two miunutes." Claire snaps as tears drip from her eys.

Charlie sits on the bed, pulling her down to sit beside him. He presses her against him and rocks her comfortingly. "We'll be fine," he assures her quietly.

Claire begins sobbing violently. She wraps her arms around Charlie and buries her face in his cotton shirt. He holds her tighter, fear present in his eyes. He feels tears forming, but blinks them away. Claire's body shakes as she cries, wailing, "What are we gonna do?" Charlie runs his hands through her hair.

Claire's crying finally stops and she sits up. Charlie's heart aches for her as he wipes the tears from her eyes. "We'll get through this, love," he whispers. Claire nods her head, sucking in deep breaths. She picks up the pregnancy test that she had dropped in her fit of tears. She looks at it and her hand flies up over her mouth as a dry sob escapes her lips. She looks at those two pink lines for what seems like ages. Charlie looks worriedly from her face to the two pink lines and back to her face again. He feels his stomach flip and feels almost ready to throw up. He meets Claire's gaze and knows he looks scared to death. She shakes her head, hand still over her mouth. She stands and walks over to the trash can where she discards the test. "I'm pregnant." she mutters, looking back to Charlie. He remains on the bed, looking at her with fear all across his face.

"We can't do this!" Claire wails, spiraling to the floor.

Charlie is at her side in seconds. "Yes, we can." he says, voice shaking.

"No, we can't, Charlie! I can't support a baby on my salary! And you can't on the salary of a bloody waiter!" she exclaims.

"I'll get another job, Claire.... I will." Charlie states, feeling slightly offended.

"No, I don't want you to get another job!" Claire cries.

"I will, though! Since my current job is bloody _scum_!"  
"I never said it was scum, Charlie!"

"Well, you sure acted like it was a job for complete losers!"

"Shut _up_, Charlie!"

"I don't think your job as accountant at Seventh National Bank--"

"First!" Claire corrects him.

"Whatever! It's not glamorous, either!"

"It's better than a bleeding bus-boy!"

"Then, I'll quit! And get a better job that's up to your standards!"

"I don't want you to quit! Or get another job!" Claire yells.

"Then, what do you want?" Charlie loudly snaps.

Claire begins crying again.

Charlie hugs her tightly. "I'm... Bloody hell, Claire... I'm sorry." Charlie murmurs.

"I kn-know... B-but we can't do this." Claire sobs.

"Yes, we can." Charlie declares.

Claire shakes her head, but listens as he continues.

"We can. It'll be fantastic... Just think of him, running around. He'll be beautiful." Charlie mutters, eyes lighting up as he imagines it. "We'll be parents... This is the greatest thing, Claire."

"Really?" Claire asks, smiling a tad.

"Yeah, love, it is. And he'll be the best."

"How do you know it wont be a girl?" Claire asks, looking Charlie in the eyes.

Charlie laughs, taking Claire in his arms and kisses her deeply.


	4. The Call

Charlie comes home from working a double shift. He takes off his jacket before shuffling into the bedroom. He runs his hand through his hair, messing it up. He loosens his tie before taking it off. He tosses it onto the floor before falling to a seat on the edge of the bed. He sighs, popping his neck before bending over and pulling off his shoes. His feet rejoice when they are freed from the confines of the black dress shoes. Charlie walks into the master bath, splashing cold water on his face. He gropes blindly for a towel and, upon grabbing one, he wipes his face dry. A clatter and a shout from the kitchen grab his attention. Charlie quickly walks into the kitchen. "Claire?" he calls as he nears the kitchen. He hears Claire grumbling angrily in the kitchen. He walks in to see Claire bending over to pick up a spilled plate of chicken, gripping her slightly bulging stomach.

"Hey, I'll get it," Charlie says, kneeling to pick up the plate.

"No, I got it." Claire tells him, still stooping over, fingers reaching for the plate.

"Claire, it's fine, I'll get it." Charlie chuckles.

"I said I've got it!" Claire growls.

Charlie pulls his hands back from the overturned plate, a hurt look spreading over his face.

Claire grabs the bowl before looking at him. When she sees the look on his face, she sighs, putting a hand to her head. "I'm sorry," she mutters.

"No, it's alright," Charlie shrugs, walking to the pantry to get a trash bag and a cloth to clean the floor with.

"Charlie," Claire calls his name.

Charlie grabs the cloth and trash bag and walks over to the chicken. He picks it up and throws it away before wetting the cloth with soapy water. He begins scrubbing the floor.

"Charlie, I-I'm sorry." Claire stammers, voice breaking.

Charlie stops cleaning and looks up at Claire.

"I just... I feel so useless. And I feel like you're doing everything. And you just had a double shift and I wanted to make you your favorite, but now that it's ruined...!" Claire blubbers, tossing up her arms as tears stream down her face.

Charlie tosses the cloth into the sink and dries his hands off. "Claire," he murmurs, taking hold of her shoulders.

She looks up at him.

He brushes her hair from her face, saying, "I love you. And you are _not _useless."

Claire sniffles, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly. "This baby... This isn't what we wanted." she mutters into Charlie's shirt.

"I know, love. I didn't plan on having a baby either. But now that we've got one... I dunno, I think we can do this."

Claire furrows her brow. She could not do this. She was not capable of being a mother. She burrows her face deeper into Charlie's shirt.

"Claire," Charlie softly murmurs her name.

Claire lifts her head and looks Charlie in the eyes.

"I love you." he murmurs softly, bringing his lips to hers in a soft kiss.

"Love you, too," she responds, taking a step back to look at him.

Claire lies awake that night, imagining a squealing and shouting baby in the house. She grimaces. All this baby had done was cause her and Charlie to fight more often. Claire looks at Charlie's sleeping form beside her. His face was completely calm as he sleeps, but Claire could see the rings under his eyes from working late and trying to bring in monmey for rent and the baby and groceries. She softly strokes Charlie's hair from his forehead as tears threaten to spill from her eyes. She sits up in bed and stares down at her stomach. It is growing larger daily, it seems. She rises from the bed with effort. She shuffles out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. She digs through her drawers before finding a large phone book. Tears spill from her eyes as she flips through the pages. She finds the page she needs and shakily lifts the phone from the hook. She presses the numbers with trembling fingers, but halfway through the number, Claire hears Charlie stir. She hangs up the phone and conceals the phone book underneath a stack of papers. Charlie shuffles into the doorway, rubbing his eyes groggily.

"Wha's a'matter, Claire?" he slurs sleepily.

"Nothing, nothing," she sucks up her tears and forces her voice not to shake.

"Mmm, I don' think it's nothing." he murmurs, blinking hard.

"Charlie, I'm fine. It's just hormones. Let's go back to bed." Claire lies, walking up to Charlie.

He nods and the two return to their matress. Claire feels Charlie wrap his arms around her enlarged torso before realeasing a soft sob. She lifts Charlie's hand to her lips and kisses it tenderly. She turns around to face Charlie. His soft, blue eyes stare into hers and a concerned look causes his eyebrows to furrow. Claire smiles weakly, pressing her lips to his. Charlie kisses her back, still groggy from sleep. When Claire pulls away, he asks, "What was that for?" Claire shakes her head silently. She snuggles closer to Charlie and kisses him again, deeper this time. Charlie runs his fingers through her hair and returns her kiss. Charlie pulls away, yawning largely. "I'm sorry, Claire, but I've gotta sleep." he apologizes softly. Claire nods, kissing his nose, chin, and neck. Charlie smiles at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" he chuckles.

Claire smiles lightly. "Maybe," she responds playfully.

"Well, it's working." Charlie states before passionately kissing her mouth.

The next morning, Claire woke up around eight o'clock. Charlie was racing around the room, pulling his shoes on quickly. Claire sits up in bed, watching him. He grabs his tie up from the floor, grumbling as he fumbles with it. "You want me to make you breakfast?" Claire asks, rising from bed.

"No. I have to be at work in..." he glances at his watch. "Fifteen minutes. How bleeding fantastic." he snaps, pulling his tie straight.

"Oh, well, just coffee then?" Claire offers.

"No, Claire! I haven't got bloody time for coffee! I should be driving by now." Charlie barks.

Claire frowns. "Well, I'm sorry. I was just trying to help." she states, crossing her arms.

"Well, I wouldn't be late if you didn't bloody wake me up in the middle of the night." Charlie grumbles.

"Oh! Well, excuse me!" Claire yells.

"Whatever, Claire. I don't have time for this." Charlie states, walking out of the room.

Claire marches after him, steaming. "You shouldn't be mad at me! You weren't complaining last night." she saucily growls.

Charlie turns on his heel. He squeezes the bridge of his nose. "Look, Claire, I'm sorry. Alright?" he says tiredly. "I have to go."

He turns and walks out the door, slamming it behind him. Claire stares after him, feeling her anger slowly fade. She sighs, placing her hand to her forehead. She slowly heads into the kitchen and uncovers the phone book, brushing the papers aside. She picks up the phone and dials the number. She presses the phone to her ear, releasing a shaky breath as she listens to the ringing. Someone answers and she swallows.

"Hello, thank you for calling the Sydney Regional Medical Center. How can we help you?" a friendly woman asks.

"I, uh, I would like an abortion." Claire says into the phone, hearing her voice crack.


	5. Peanut Butter

Claire listens to the doctor carefully. Every few minutes, she would glance at the door, scared Charlie would walk through the door. She agrees to go to the OBGYN's in one month to terminate the pregnancy. She hangs up the phone ten minutes later after scrawling the doctor's number and time of the appointment into her date book. She closes the phone book and her planner and sticks them into a drawer before sinking to the floor with a deep, guilty sigh. She wonders what Charlie would say. What Charlie would do. Sobs wrack her body as she felt her large stomach. She wipes her eyes before deciding to go and visit her mother.

She rides the bus down to the hospital. The bus ride was around twenty minutes long; she had wanted to be close to the hospital. Claire steps off the bus, hearing the doors close with a hiss behind her before the bus speeds away. She walks down the sidewalk in the bright sunshine. She walks up to the front desk, telling the woman who she was before padding down the long, quiet hallway. The light green tiling gave the hallway a calm feel as if, in this hallway, nothing would ever change. Claire walks into room two-three-zero and hears the sound of the nature channel quietly murmuring from the television set. Claire walks over to her mother's bedside. She pulls an old, grey chair close to the hospital bed before lowering herself to a seat in it. Claire sits in silence for nearly ten minutes, just watching her mother's chest rise and fall- thanks to the machine she was attatched to. Claire lets a troubled sigh escape her lips before folding her hands.

"Mom?" she asks quietly, taking hold of her mom's hand.

Her mother's hand lay limp in Claire's, like it always had. Like it probably always would.

"Mom, Charlie and I got pregnant." Claire continued, looking at her mother's still face. "We... The baby isn't what we wanted. Charlie can barely keep us fed now. We don't need a baby. And... All we ever do is _fight _anymore. This baby is tearing us apart, Mom."

Claire stopped talking for a moment, taking time to swallow unshed tears.

"I'm getting an abortion, Mom... I'm killing the baby." she sobbed, feeling her heart contract when she admitted the horrid deed to her mother. "I-I dunno what else to do. We can't afford him. We can't raise a baby, Mom! I-I can't be a mother. Charlie... Charlie thinks we c-can do this. We can't. We _can't_." Claire blubbers, leaning over her mother, face in her hands.

She stayed with her mother an hour longer before returning to the bus, a bleary-eyed mess. She sits on the bus, gripping the seat tightly whenever the vehicle bounced or swerved. Once off the bus, Claire stumbles into the flat, falling onto her mattress to continue crying. She wonderes if this was the right choice. She wonderes if she could go through with this choice. Claire sobs until her cries morph into a case of the hiccups. She rolls onto her side, eyeing a picture frame that contained a photo of Charlie and her. His arms were wrapped around her waist and he was kissing her cheek as she laughed. Claire smiles, maybe they could raise a baby? She closes her eyes, attempting to place a child into that picture frame with them... Charlie's arms were no longer around her wait, but they were holding up a three-year old girl. She was crying and throwing a fit while pulling Charlie's hair. Claire was scolding the child... Claire openes her eyes with a scowl; no matter what she did, she could not picture herself as a parent. She sits up and waddles into the kitchen, twisting open the lid of a peanut butter jar. She dips her finger into the brown, gooey substance before bringing it to her lips and consuming it. She hears the door open and heard Charlie's feet dragging across the floor. She glances at the clock; it was nearly nine at night. He had worked late again.

"Claire?" his voice calls through the house, sounding much more energetic than his footsteps.

"I'm in the kitchen," she calls, sounding much less depressed than she was feeling.

Claire hears the flopping of his shoes hitting the hardwood floor as he kicks them off. He is soon in the kitchen, smiling down at her goofily. She giggles up at him, surprising herself with the laugh. He lowers himself to a seat across from her, watching her from underneath his blonde eyelashes.

"What?" she asks with a smile.

"Nothing," Charlie states, looking away quickly. He looks back at her, stating, "Just... It's good to see you smile."

She softens, feeling her heart contract.

"So, peanut butter?" he asks, breaking the silence. He points to the jar.

Claire nods. "Of course," she states.

"Full to the brim with stick-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth, oh-God-it-makes-you-want-a-glass-of-milk, extra smooth peanut butter?" he smiles quirkily.

"It's the best bloody peanut butter I've ever tasted... Want some?" Claire offers, holding out the jar.

"I believe I do," Charlie broadly smiles, sticking his finger into the jar and scooping out a glob of peanut butter. He sucks it off his finger with a smile at Claire.

They sit in the floor for thirty minutes, talking and eating peanut butter until the jar is empty.

The next morning, Claire wakes up to find a note from Charlie on the pillow beside her. It read:

_ Claire, didn't want to wake you. Headed to work. Love you, Charlie._

Claire sighs before heading into the kitchen. She glares at the coffee pot. She would die for a cup, but she is pregnant. "I'm giving up the baby. I should just drink some coffee," she tells herself. She reaches for a coffee mug, but draws back at the last second and gets a glass of juice instead. She gulps down the juice before sitting in front of the television set and flipping on the news. All the sad and traumatic events on the news cause her to cry, so Claire switches over to a light-hearted comedy instead.

The days flew by until they turned into weeks... Which aall led up the one month being completed.

Claire waits until Charlie leaves for work before pulling out her planner. She flips it open to the day's date and checks the time. She has one hour until the appointment. She chews her lip nervously and fumbles with her keys. Claire walks out the door twenty minutes later, feeling sick to her stomach the entire busride to the clinic.


	6. Cold

Charlie waited tables until twelve o'clock. Liam had come to eat there and had nearly died of excitement when Charlie told him about Claire's pregnancy. Charlie got many hugs and slaps on the shoulder from his brother. After an hour of talking, Liam had grown silent and looked down at his hands. Charlie watched as his brother fumbled to get a large, clunky, metal ring off his ring finger. "I want you to have this," Liam smiled at Charlie broadly. Charlie denied Liam at first, but Liam persisted, saying, "Charlie, you have a family. I don't- and probably won't. Mum would have wanted you to give this to your little one... And, let's face it, I'm a sodding mess. I do drugs and you have managed to stay clean... So, please, take it?" Charlie had accepted the ring, sliding it onto his ring finger with ease.

Charlie checks his watch; he had an hour long break today. The tables were practically empty in the restaurant. It was a slow day. Charlie frets with his tie, debating on whether or not he could get an extra hour for break so he could go and eat out with Claire. Charlie walks over to the manager's office and knocks on the door hesitantly. He hears the man's muffled voice call, "Come in," through the office's thick, mahagony door. Charlie wraps his hand around the cool, brass doorknob before stepping into the office. The manager is staring out the window at the beach before she turns to look at Charlie.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Pace," the manager states with a pleasant-but not welcoming- smile.

"Hello, Ms. Heatherton," Charlie addresses the woman.

"What can I do for you today?" Lucy Heatherton asks, glancing at Charlie.

"Oh, well, I was wondering if I could extend my lunch break an hour today... I'd like to take my girlfriend out to lunch." Charlie explains, averting his eyes from Ms. Heatherton to the scenic view from the window.

"Well, since today is a slow day, you may extend your break. But I expect you back here by at least two ten." Lucy allows.

"Thank you, miss. Thank you." Charlie smiles as he exits the office.

Charlie walks over to the phone and tries calling the apartment, then, Claire's phone. She answers neither. Charlie frowns, wondering if something was wrong that she was not answering. He jogs out of the back door of the restaurant to his car. Charlie tries not to worry as he drives through traffic. He taps his fingers on the wheel anxiously at a stoplight. Once he gets the car moving, Charlie intertwines through the other cars on the road. He pulls up to the apartment before walking to the elevator and punching in his floor number. Charlie closes his eyes and takes a breath, convincing himself not to worry. Once he reaches the flat, Charlie looks about, not seeing Claire automatically.

"Claire?" he calls, wandering into their bedroom. He checks the bathroom, but she isn't there. Charlie walks into the kitchen, calling, "Claire?" He bites his lip with anxiety building in his gut. He begins to walk out of the kitchen when a flash of pink catches his eye. It's Claire's planner. Charlie frowns and lifts the book from the small table, eyeing the page. He stops when he sees the note she had written on that day. His brow scrunches in confusion. He had no idea whose number was scratched down and what Claire had to do at twelve. Charlie plucked the house phone from its stand and dials the number. Holding the phone between his ear and his shoulder blade, Charlie flips through Claire's planner absent-mindedly. After the phone rig sour times, a young woman's voice answers saying, "Hello, this is Sydney Regional Medical Center. Thank you for calling. How can I help you?"

"Uhm, hello... My..." Charlie stops himself. There was no way the hospital would share private information with him. Unless he was related. "My sister was checked in at twelve. Her name is Claire Littleton. May I ask why?" he cleverly asks.

"Oh, uhm... I don't know if I'm allowed to share that information." the girl's voice fumbles.

Charlie's heart skips a beat. "Look, I'm her boyfriend. My name is Charlie Pace. She's pregnant and I need to know if she's okay. _Please?_" he begs, his voice on the edge of sounding desperate.

He hears the girl sigh before the sound of her rifling through files. "Well, Mr. Pace, Claire is fine. She was not harmed in any way when she came in. She made herself the appointment. That's all I am allowed to share with you, sir."

"Thank you," Charlie mumbles, deep in thought. He hangs up the phone, disregaurding the woman's "good-bye." He wanders into the living room and sits on the sofa, setting the planner on the coffee table before grabbing his acoustic guitar and plucking out the tune of a song he heard on the radio. Twenty minutes later, Chralie hears the door open and close. He turns around and sees Claire walking through the door, looking more like a zombie than herself. Charlie stood, which caused Claire to shriek at the unexpected movement. He set his guitar aside before looking back to Claire. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Charlie? I-I thought you were at work?" Claire stumbles, not moving from the doorway.

"I _was_." Charlie states. "But I came home to eat lunch with you."

"Oh." Claire says. "Well, thank you, but I already ate."

"Where were you? I tried your cell, but you didn't answer." Charlie told her.

"I was... Out, eating with Stacy." Claire lies, looking at her sandals.

Charlie's heart sinks. He lifts up her planner frrom the couch. "Why were you at the hospital?" he asks, stepping around the sofa. "Is-Is something wrong?"

Claire steps back, eyes tearing up. Charlie watches, worry and confusion covering his face. "_What happened?" _he asks, hearing the worry in his voice.

Claire shakes her head as silent sobs cause her shoulders to shake. Charlie reaches out to hug her, but Claire jerks away, wrapping her arms around her own body.

"Is it... Is is the baby?" Charlie asks her, a lump in his throat.

A loud, anguished wail escapes Claire's lips, causing Charlie to start. He feels his heart pounding. "What happened?" he demands, placing his hands on her shoulders. He watches tears pour down Claire's face as she sobs loudly. She opens her mouth to speak periodically, but cannot talk through her crying. "What happened?" Charlie asks more urgently.

"I-I-I got an... abortion." Claire sobs. Broken.

Charlie's hands fall to his sides. He feels his world shattering down around him like glass dropped onto jagged rocks. He gasps in a breath, realizing he hadn't breathed since Claire had spoken. "What?" he whispers, looking at Claire as if she were a stranger.

"I g-got an abortion." Claire sniffles, having calmed down a bit.

Charlie shakes his head. This wasn't real. He looks at her through watery eyes. "Why?" he asks.

"I dunno..." Claire shrugs.

"I... I told Lee. Liam thinks I'm gonna... I was gonna be a dad." Charlie brokenly declares, placing his hand on his chest.

"I'm sorry, Charlie... But we couldn't be parents. We could not raise a baby." Claire tells Charlie.

"How do you know?" he asks. "Because I have a bleeding job as a bus-boy? Is that why?"

"No... Charlie, we just couldn't." Claire states.

Charlie backs away from Claire, shaking his head. His whole body feels cold as the news slowly sinks in. He places a hand atop his head, staring at Claire in horror. Claire tries totake Charlie's hand, but he jerks away from her touch. Claire sobs dryly, pulling her hand back to her body. Charlie stares at Claire's stomach, still bulging slightly from where their child had been. He feels as though he is starring in some horrid drama. Charlie walks to the door, uttering, "I, uh, I gotta go..."

"Charlie, don't... don't leave me?" Claire pleads, reaching out to him.

Charlie avoids her gaze as he walks out the door. As he stands out in the hallway, Charlie feels as though he has just been punched in the gut. He doubles over, releasing a fractured sob. He walks outside, realizing that it was completely past two ten and he was late for work. Charlie walks down tha street and hails a cab. He tells the driver his brother's address before placing his head between his knees and tries to breath as he rides through the city.


	7. She Lost Her Sense of Light

Hey, sorry it's taken me so long to update, but my computer crashed. I'll try and post new chapters more frequently. Thanks for sticking with this story!

Charlie paid the taxi driver before climbing from the cab. He stares at his brother's small house and sincerelly hopes Liam doesn't have company. Charlie shuffles up the steps onto Liam's small front porch. He raps his fist on the door, feeling hollow. One minute passes and Charlie rings the doorbell, just in case his brother hadn't heard his knocking. The door opens seconds after he rang the bell. Liam is sniffing, most likely he had just taken a hit. He smiles at Charlie, saying, "Hey, baby brother! What's..." Liam stops when he sees the look on Charlie's face. Charlie asks, "Can I talk to you?" Liam quietly opens the door and stands back. Charlie walks into his brother's house and heads for the living room in a sort of dazed state. He sits on the couch and places his head in his hands. Liam sits beside his brother, gazing at him worriedly. Placing a hand on Charlie's shoulder, Liam asks, "What's a'matter, Charlie?"  
Charlie lifts his face from his hands, gazing not at Liam but at the wall he was facing. "I... Claire, she..." Charlie mumbled, not knowing what exactly to say. He still wasn't sure if this was a nightmare or not.  
Liam squeezed his shoulder. "Yeah?" he quietly prompts.  
"Remember how I said I was gonna be a... a dad?" Charlie falters, pausing to steady his breathing.  
"Yeah," Liam replies slowly.  
"Well, I'm not." Charlie states bluntly. His shoulders shake as he sobs dryly. He covers his mouth with one hand to muffle his sob. He urges himself to stop crying. "What d'ya mean?" Liam furrows his brow in concern for his brother.  
Charlie cannot swallow the lump in his throat. He opens his mouth, but a sob comes out instead of an answer. He covers his face with his hands as his composure crumbles. He feels Liam wrap his arm around both his shoulders and squeeze them comfortingly. Charlie doubles over, placing his head between his knees. He can't breathe. He's choking on his sorrow. Gasps escape his lips as he tries to suck in air between his sobs.  
"Charlie, what happened? Is Claire alright?" Liam asks.  
Charlie nods. "Sh-she got... Claire got an abortion, Li." Charlie choked out, meeting Liam's gaze.  
Liam's eyes widen in shock. "Oh, Charlie... I'm sorry, mate." Liam whispers.  
Charlie shakes his head. "'S not your fault." he mutters.  
Liam pats Charlie's back. "You want some coffee or something?" he offers.  
"Sure," Charlie shrugs bleakly. "Can I use your lou?"  
"Yeah, yeah," Liam nods as he rises to his feet and heads towards his small kitchen.  
Charlie stands and walks down the narrow hallway and into the bathroom that was beside Liam's room. He sits on the edge of the tub and cries, letting his gaurd down. His heart aches each time it beats. Charlie wraps his arms around himself, trying to hold himself together. He feels as though he is breaking into a million pieces. He gasps in fractured breaths between sobs. His body shakes from sobs. His hair falls into his eyes as he doubles over, gripping his form tightly. He feels himself fading away into nothing. He is drowning in an ocean of pain. The waves and cruel undercurrents are beating him against rocks and breaking him into nothing. Charlie glares at his checkered shoes as anger suddenly takes over his body. Anger at Claire. Anger at what she did. Anger at the facty that she didn't tell him. Anger. He balls his hands into fists and, before he realizes what he's doing, Charlie sends a fist flying into the mirror. It cracks and few jagged pieces fall from the main part into the white sink and onto the floor. Charlie stares at his fractured image, seeing bright red blood dripping from a few pieces of glass. He glances down at his fist, seeing it is cut up by the broken mirror and that a few small shards are lodged in his skin. He hisses in pain, the rage fading from his body. He picks the glass out of his injured hand before rinsing his bleeding knuckles with cold water. He rifles through Liam's cabinet and grabs a small hand towel. He wraps it around his bleeding fist before leaving the bathroom. He stumbles around Liam's room aimlessly before he sees a small, black container. Charlie knows what was inside of the small cylender. He sits at Liam's dresser in an old, rolling computer chair that Liam had wheeled into his room. Charlie stares at his reflection in this mirror. It looks foreign to him, the unbroken mirror. He didn't seem to look quite right in it. He scootd a wine bottle out of his way before dumping out one of the three black film containers. A small baggie falls onto the dresser. He feels the lump return to his throat as he holds the bag of herion in his hand. He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be a dad. "Charlie?" Liam's concerned voice came down the hall. Charlie stands abruptly, shoving the baggie into his back pocket. He walks into the hallway to come face-to-face with Liam.  
"Are you alright? You wre in there for quite some time..?" Liam asks, placing a hand on Charlie's shoulder.  
Charlie shrugs.  
Liam spots the bloody hand towel wrapped around Charlie's fist. He asks, "What happened?"  
"I'm sorry. I broke your mirror..." Charlie mumbled, feeling stupid.  
"No problem. Let's get that bandaged." Liam says. He leads Charlie into the kitchen, where he kept his first aid kit. He wrapped gauze around Charlie's knuckles before handing him a cup of coffee.  
Charlie sips it quietly. Neither brother says anything for a long while. They sit in silence. Liam looks up from his coffee every few seconds to survey his younger brother's face. Charlie ignores his brother's glances, trying to keep himself from crying and going completely insane from grief. He finishes his cup and sets it onto the coffee table quietly. Liam sets aside his cup, too. He leans back on the sofa and shifts so that he is facing Charlie more. Charlie leans back, closing his eyes as his head lolls backwards to rest on the top of the couch.  
"So, what are you gonna do?" Liam asks.  
"I dunno," Charlie mutters, keeping his eyes closed.  
"ARe you gonna go back? You can stay with me a couple days, if you'd like?" Liam offers.  
"No thanks, Li," declines Charlie. "I should go back and talk to her."  
Liam purses his lips. "Yeah." he states blankly. "I mean, she must be feeling pretty dreadful."  
Charlie squeezed his eyes shut. "Yeah," his reply is almost inaudible.  
"Even though it is her fault. The traitor." Liam's voice has a bitter edge.  
"Can we not talk about her like that?" Charlie opened his eyes and looked at Liam. "Please?"  
"Right. Sorry," Liam replied.  
"No, it's okay... I'm just... not ready." Charlie tells Liam.  
Liam nods. Charlie lays back on the couch and falls asleep moments later. Liam leaves his brother to rest and walks into the kitchen. After pacing restlessly around his home for twenty minutes, Liam winds up back in the kitchen. He snatches up the phone and angrily punches in Claire's cell phone number. He listens to it ring with irritation. Claire's tired voice answers with a broken, "Liam?" "Yeah," Liam snaps harshly.  
"Is Charlie over there?" Claire's voice breaks when she says her boyfriend's name.  
"Yeah, he's here." Liam growls. "How dare you! Who the bloody hell do you think you are to kill a baby?"  
He hears Claire sob on the other end before she answers. "I'm so so sorry."  
"You should be! Charlie was so excited... How dare you do this to him! Behind his back!" Liam spits acidicly.  
"I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't mean to..." Claire blubbers. "Well, you did." Liam snaps.  
"Li," Liam turns around to see his brother standing behind him. Charlie holds out his hand for the phone. Liam sighs before muttering into the phone, "Charlie's wanting to talk to you." As Liam hands Charlie the phone, he whispers, "Are you okay...?" Charlie looks at his shoes and nods slightly. He takes the phone and places it against his ear. He hears Claire sniffling.  
"Claire?" he utters, feeling a mixture of love and sorrow and hate and disgust and pity and protectiveness.  
"Charlie?" Claire seems uncertain as she says his name. As though she is no longer good enough to talk to him.  
"Yeah," Charlie bleakly utters. "I'll be home in a minute."  
"Thank you." Claire breathes into the receiver. "Yeah," Charlie monotonously says again before hanging up the phone.  
Claire hangs up her cell phone before laying back on the cold, hardwood floor. She is in the dark. The lights are off. She is utterly alone. She sobs dryily, having shed every tear she could. She wraps her arms around her stomach, feeling its stillness. Its emptiness. She shakes with sobs. She wants so badly to take back what she had done. Claire wonders if she wishes hard enough, if she could go back and change things. She knows she can't, but she wants to believe the lie. She focuses on the ceiling for a long time, thinking about how different today would have been if she hadn't done what she had. Charlie would have came home from work early and taken her somewhere nice. Probably the seafood place she had been craving for all week. They would have laughed, trying to think of names for the baby. They would have kissed before they ordered dessert. It would have been perfect. She blinks her eyes, the haze of her daydream disappearing. She feels the lump in her throat rising until it bursts out of her pink lips in a wail of sorrow. She cries harder than she has ever cried before. And, shockingly, more tears are produced. "I want to die!" She sobs endlessly, wrapping her arms about her empty stomach. She rolls onto her side. "I wish I could die!" she yells through wails of pain and sorrow.  
"Love, don't say that," she hears Charlie's quiet voice come from the silence. She opens her eyes to see Charlie kneeling a foot from her. She sits up so that she is looking into Charlie's eyes. His eyes are not gazing into hers, though. He is gazing with a look of both horror and grief at her swollen abdomen. Claire wraps her arms around her stomach self-consciously. She gazes at the floor. "I'm so sorry," she whispers.  
Charlie nods quietly. "C'mon," he says, standing. Claire gazes up at him as he extends a bandaged hand for her. She takes it and hoists hersef to her feet. "What happened?" she asks, gesturing to his hand.  
He just shakes his head. "Let's get to bed." Charlie says.  
Claire chokes out an "okay" before following Charlie into their bedroom. Charlie slides his shoes off quietly. He pulls off his shirt and dress pants before pulling on his plaid pajama pants. Not saying one word, Charlie climbs into bed. Claire watches him quietly. She slides into bed after him, making sure that she does not touch him. She feels out of place in the bed. Like he didn't want her there. Like she was not the right Claire Littletion. Claire muffles a sob by shoving her face into her pillow. She hears Charlie's breath hitch for a second. Claire wants so badly for him to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything would be okay. But Claire knew things would not be okay. Not for a long time. Because of what she did.  
Claire slipped into an unsettled sleep. Her mind did not provide her with comforting dreams; instead, she was provided with flashes of memories. Charlie's face when he found out what she did. Her voice saying, "This isn't what we wanted." The picture of her and Charlie. Liam's harsh phone call. Laying alone on the floor. Charlie's voice crying, "I was gonna be a dad." Claire woke up with tears streaming down her cheeks. She sat up in bed, looking to her right. But Charlie was gone. He had not left a note like he usually did. He was just... gone. Claire slides out of bed, scooting around the apartment aimlessly. It was Sunday. Charlie didn't work Sundays. She wonders where he is, but doesn't think she has a right to know. Claire grabs a breakfast bar from the kitchen pantry before walking to the living room sofa. Claire chomps on the chewy granola bar as the television blares some tacky melodrama. Claire isn't watching it, though. She's staring at the picture frame above the television set. It was her and Charlie, like most all pictures in the flat were. Claire finishes her breakfast bar, never looking away from the picture. Charlie was smiling in it. Claire hopes that he smiles at her again someday. Though, she knows she doesn't deserve it. She doesn't deserve him. Claire lays down on the couch and cries softly. She wonders if she'll ever stop crying. If the guilt will ever stop suffocating her. She hears the door open and sits up on the couch abruptly. She turns around to face the front door. She sees Charlie standing at it, swaying slightly. Claire frowns; she knowsw Charlie had been out drinking. He had never been a good drunk; he usually couldn't stand too much alcohol. Claire stands, saying his name softly. His eyes meet heres, they are glossed over and unfocused. Claire wonders how much he'd drank. She had never seen him look like this. Claire approaches Charlie. He sways badly and clings to the coat-rack to steady himself. Claire reaches him and wraps her arm around his waist. She throws his arm over her shoulders and helps him stagger and stumble to their bedroom. She allows him to fall back onto their bed before beginning to unlace his shoes. She pulls the sneakers off his feet before standing to look him over. He is laughing. Claire feels her frown deepen. Why was he laughing?  
"What's so funny?" Claire asks, sounding slightly bitter.  
Charlie looks at her, eyes completely hollow. It made his smile more scary than it was funny. "My life." Charlie laughs. "Bloody... MY life."  
Claire shakes her head. "Charlie, how long have you been out?" "Wha?" he slurs, frowning.  
"When did you leave?"  
"I d'no... Last night?" he replies, rolling onto his side with a moan. "I feel like I'm gonna be sick..." Claire hurriedly fetches the wastebasket from their master bath. She brings it to the edge of the bed. Charlie leans over and retches into it. Claire rubs his back consolingly. She winces each time he throws up, but never leaves his side. Charlie finally empties his stomach. He coughs dryly over the trash can before wiping his mouth on his shirt collar. He repositions himself so he is lying on the bed, arms wrapped around his legs, pulling them close to his chest. Claire lays down beside him, burrowing her face in his back. She hears a sob escape Charlie's lips and wraps her arms about his body, pulling him close to her. "I'm so sorry," she repeats the worn out line softly.  
Charlie cries, looking at the baggie that he had dug out of his pocket and held in his hand.


	8. Never Again

Charlie wakes up, hands shaking. He races into the bathroom, disregarding Claire as she mumbles something to him as she wakes up. Charlie shuts and locks the bathroom door behind him before pulling out the small baggie of heroin he had stolen from Liam. Dumping a pinch into his palm, Charlie hurriedly snorts the drugs. He ties the baggie back up before shoving it back into his pants' pocket. He stares at himself in the mirror, letting the sensation wash over him. He suddenly feels… nothing. The high that heroin gave Charlie gets rid of his pain. The heroin gave him peace, if only for a moment. He didn't have to worry about anything. A knock comes from the door, followed by Claire's muffled voice. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he replies, a bitter twinge to his words.

No matter how high he got, he still never completely forgot what she had done.

"Oh, alright," Claire's voice is quieter.

Charlie splashes his face with water before exiting the bathroom. He changes shirts and pants, careful to move his stash from one pair of pants to the next subtly. He leaves the master bedroom and heads into the kitchen. He sees Claire is fixing coffee and some sandwiches. The coffee, he assumes, is probably for him. He was still pretty hung over from earlier that morning. He ducks his head and stumbles around her to get his coffee mug. He sits at his regular barstool, taking sips of the hot coffee every now and then. Charlie rests his face in his hands with a sigh. "Are… Would you like a sandwich?" Claire's voice breaks the silence. He raises his head to look at her. She looked scared, tentatively holding out a ham and cheese sandwich for him.

"Oh, uh, yeah." Charlie nods quietly, sounding hoarse. "Thank you."

"No problem," Claire replies as she sets the plate down in front of him. She turns back to begin making herself a sandwich.

Charlie bites into his sandwich and chews slowly. He was not completely high, so he was still able to function, unlike that morning. When he was both high and drunk. He was surprised he had gotten home. Charlie looks up from his wheat bread at Claire. She was fumbling around the kitchen like she was scared she'd set him off. As if any loud noise would wind up in him turning homicidal.

Claire turns about and meets Charlie's eyes. Charlie watches her reaction. She abruptly breaks eye-contact and looks at the tile floor.

"It's alright you know," he murmurs, running a finger around the rim of his coffee mug.

Claire looks at him with confusion.

"To talk to me," he clarifies quietly.

"Oh," is all she says.

Charlie takes another sip of his coffee. He wishes Claire would talk to him. Although he was pretty mad at her, he couldn't stand her being scared of him. The idea appalled him.

"Do you want an aspirin?" Claire's voice rings out.

Charlie looks up, seeing Claire standing uneasily in the center of the kitchen. "Uh, yeah. Thanks," he responds, voice cracking.

Claire nods, opening a shelf and pulling out a bottle of aspirin. "How many?" she asks as she struggles to open the lid.

Charlie holds up two fingers as he responds, "Make it two."

Claire opens the bottle before dumping two pills into her palm. She closes the aspirin bottle and puts it away. She turns to Charlie, placing the pills in his outstretched hand. Their fingers touch and Claire recoils into herself. Charlie sighs before popping the pills into his mouth and swallowing them with a drink of coffee.

"So, how's your head?" Claire asks as she sits at the barstool beside him with her sandwich.

Charlie notices that Claire is trying not to touch him and it slightly irks him. "It hurts… a lot." He tells her.

"Sorry," Claire whispers.

Charlie takes another bite of his sandwich. He thinks about the bag in his pocket. He wonders why he needs it so badly. He had only had it a day. He had only used it twice. Yet, Charlie feels as though he _needs_ it now.

"Where were you?" Claire's voice was nearly inaudible.

"Well," Charlie purses his lips. He was trying to remember himself. "I went to a bar 'round midnight. And I stayed there till morning, I think. Then, I walked home…?"

"You don't remember?"

"Not really. It's patchy. I've never been that good at alcohol." Charlie admits. _Or at drugs._

"Yeah, I know."

Charlie sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry." Claire whispers.

Charlie clenches his jaw. "Would you stop that?" he grumbles like a crash of thunder before a lightning storm.

"Stop what?" Claire asks, shriveling a little.

"Saying that you're sorry all the time!" Charlie nearly shouts as he jumps up. This sudden motion causes his barstool to clatter to the ground.

Claire lifts her arms as a shield and whimpers with fright.

"I'm not going to bloody hit you, Claire!" Charlie shouts, her reaction hurting his feelings.

"I deserve it," Claire cries.

Charlie lets out a cry of exasperation. "Claire!" is all he is able to get out.

"I bloody deserve worse than to be hit. I should die." Claire blubbers.

"Shut _up_!" Charlie roars.

"No! I should die. I want to die." Claire wails in her seat.

Charlie takes Claire's shoulders in his hands, gripping them tightly. He sees shock come over her face and she becomes quiet.

"Don't you ever say that." Charlie growls, shaking her roughly. "_Ever_."

Claire nods as a tear trickles down her cheek. "I-I won't." she vows.

Charlie releases Claire from his grip before walking into the living room. He holds his head before falling to a seat on the couch. He wants to be mad at Claire. He really does. But he feels too much pain to feel angry. He feels too numb to really feel anything.


	9. Simple Kind of Man

Charlie wakes up the next day, takes a hit from his dwindling supply of heroin, and gets dressed for work. Miss Heatherton would not be pleased that he missed the past two days, but he feels that if she knew the reasons he had been absent, she would be a tad more lenient. Claire is still asleep as Charlie exits their bedroom. He pauses at the notepad that was placed atop the kitchen counter; his hand reaches for it to leave her the usual note, but he retracts from the paper. Charlie bites his lip, looks back at Claire, and leaves the apartment. No note is left today.

Charlie shows up for work ten minutes early. He hears the cook setting up in the kitchen. A concerned-looking waiter waves at him and Charlie half-heartedly waves back as he approaches Lucy Heatherton's office. He raps on the door with shaky knuckles. He hears Lucy's muffled voice call, "Come in." Charlie grips the cool doorknob and enters the woman's office. Lucy Heatherton is turned slightly away from Charlie; her gaze is focused on a glowing computer screen and her fingers hurriedly race across the keyboard. When she turns to face Charlie, she raises her eyebrows.

"Charlie," she says coolly, "have a seat."

Charlie uncomfortably walks forward and takes a seat in one of the two leather chairs in front of Lucy's desk. He looks at his feet, the carpet, a silver cigarette case. Then, he looks at Miss Heatherton. Her lips are pressed in a tight line and her hands are folded on the desktop. He feels like he was back in grade school—the kid called into the principal's office.

"Where have you been, Mr. Pace? Last I knew, you were just asking for an extra hour on your lunch break, not a bloody two-day vacation." Lucy states blatantly.

"I'm- I'm sorry, ma'am," Charlie apologizes, gaze dropping to the floor again.

"So, what happened? I expect the truth. And if you weren't such a good employee, I wouldn't have even given you this chance to explain yourself." Lucy informs him angrily.

"I know… I-I am sorry. My girlfriend is… was pregnant. And when I went home for lunch… that day… I found out that she, uh," Charlie pauses to compose himself. He runs a shaky hand through his hair. "I found out that she… lost the baby." Charlie lied. He was ashamed of what Claire had done. Plus, he didn't like the taste of the word 'abortion' on his tongue.

Lucy's annoyed expression immediately disintegrated into one of concern. "Oh, Charlie, I am so sorry. If I had known…" Lucy trails off as she looks upon her employee.

"It's alright, ma'am." Charlie shrugs. "Not your fault."

"Well, if there's anything I can do, let me know." Lucy tells the young man. "You need any more time off?"

"No, ma'am, I can start again now." Charlie turns down the offer, rising to his feet.

"Alright," Lucy nods, watching Charlie exit her office.

Claire sits at home alone. She had woken up alone. There had not been a note from Charlie, not that she'd expected to find one. Claire looks out the window at the world. It was so alive. So bright. So unlike her. She sighs before pacing around the apartment. She wanders into the bathroom and gazes at herself in the mirror. She leans forward to get a closer look at her face, placing both hands on the vanity. She frowns and pulls her left hand away after placing it atop some sort of plastic bag. She draws her face away from the mirror and picks up the small, clear baggie. Small granules of a light brown substance fall out of the bag and into the sink. Claire gasps.

Drugs.

It was a bag of drugs. She drops the baggie and the pinch of drug that was left empties itself from the bag and pours into the sink. Claire backs out of the bathroom, hand over her mouth in shock. Charlie couldn't be doing drugs. She fell to a seat on the edge of the bed. He just couldn't be doing drugs.

Charlie shakes and twitches throughout his shift. Lucy comes out of her office every now and again to check up on him and he has to force his hands to stay still by clamping them against his sides. When Charlie gets off of work, he races home quickly—desperately. He needed the drugs now. He walks into the apartment, heading straight for the bathroom. He glances over the sink and counter. He could've sworn he had left it there… Unless… Charlie sucks in a breath. Unless Claire had found it. He hopes that isn't the case as he feels her blue eyes penetrating his back. His hands intertwine in his already-messy hair. Ever so slowly, Charlie turns to face her.

In her eyes, Charlie sees disappointment, sorrow, shock, horror, fear, sadness, grief. And guilt. Oh, the amount of guilt he sees was unbearable. "I…" Charlie begins, but lost his voice, a lump is rising in his throat.

"Charlie?" Claire whispers, holding up the empty baggie. "Are you…? Did you…?" She leaves her questions unfinished. They both know what she was asking.

Charlie purses his lips and his hands fall to his sides. Hands shaking. Eyes watering. He nods. "I'm sorry." His voice is barely a whisper, but in an apartment where everything was quiet, Claire hears it clearly.

Claire wraps her arms around Charlie's torso. He rests his head in her shoulder, eyes blinking back tears. Claire releases a dry sob. She squeezes him tightly. They were quite a pair; both dismantled by their own actions. Charlie tried holding Claire close, but hands vibrated with such ferocity it was difficult to do so. He sobs into her shoulder blade, pressing his unstable hands against her back.

"It's okay, Charlie. It's okay." Claire whispers, running a hand through his unruly hair.

"I- I dunno why I started… I c-can't stop." Charlie confesses, teeth chattering. He feels nauseous.

Claire cups his face in her hands, pulling it away from her shoulder so she was gazing into his eyes. He was in pain; a kind of pain she couldn't fathom. "Oh, Charlie," she breathes.

"I'll st-stop. I swear." He sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Charlie watches Claire sleep that night. She had made him soup earlier. Not that it had helped. He had done his best to convince her it had helped him, but Charlie was a musician. Not an actor.

The next morning, Charlie rises from bed and vomits up his soup. He dawns his work attire and exits the apartment swiftly and silently. He has two hours to kill before his shift begins. He jumps on a bus and rides it to his destination. He walks a block before reaching the house. His hands shook like leaves. He raps on the front door urgently. Three minutes go by. Charlie raises his fist and pounds on the door. He is frantic now. One minute later, Liam answers the door in a robe, hair all a mess. "Charlie, what the bloody hell are you doing? It's seven in the morning." Liam groans.

"Where do you get your drugs?" Charlie bluntly asks.

Liam suddenly no longer looks sleepy. His eyebrows rise and his jaw drops. "Uhhh… Come in…" he utters, padding into his house. Charlie follows him in.

Liam rifles through belongings on his dresser until he locates his cell. Charlie stands near the bathroom door, fearing he may get sick again. Liam looks from his phone to his little brother. Charlie is absolutely green and he's more unstable than a house of cards in a hurricane. "Charlie, are you sure you want to keep this up?" Liam asks with concern.

"Spare me the big brother crap, Li." Charlie snaps. He knows that was harsh, but his head is pounding and he feels bile rising in his throat.

Liam sighs, watching Charlie dash to the toilet. "Alright, baby brother." When Charlie is done retching, Liam gives Charlie the supplier's number. Charlie thanks Liam before hitting the 'call' button on his cell phone. He scheduled to meet the man called Sid in ten minutes one block from where he worked. Charlie hops on a bus and rides it to his work, head between his knees the entire ride. When Charlie steps off the bus, he heads to the vacant building that was the address Sid gave him.

Charlie walks in the door unaware of what heartaches his actions would create.


End file.
